


Descent into Madness

by Elyza_pine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angry Harry, Curious Harry Potter, Depression, Descent into Madness, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Healers, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Hurt Harry Potter, M/M, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Slow Burn, no magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 06:20:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elyza_pine/pseuds/Elyza_pine
Summary: After the attack of two dementors in Little Whinging Harry is left with the realization that he without his magic. He feels more alone than ever and with the many secrets his friends, Dumbledore, and the Order are keeping from him Harry has no option but to turn to a new friend. It does not help that he feels trapped in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place and that his nightmares are becoming more and more frightening. Can Harry find out what Voldemorts plans are before Harry goes mad?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Voldemort, Regulus Black & Harry Potter, Regulus Black/Voldemort, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 13
Kudos: 74





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> *Parts of this chapter have been taken from Jk Rowlings Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.*

Harry groaned, twisting on the floor until he felt well enough to stand. Blinking several times, in an attempt to see better now that his glasses were somewhere, broken most probably, on the pavement, desperately trying to make out his surroundings. Harry made sure he was still low to ground, staying as still as possible, fear causing him to pant. The terror that his patronus had not been enough to ward off the dementors lingered but the sounds of muggle nightlife did not disappear. The honking of vehicles and faint shouts of angry drivers on their way home. A few barking dogs welcoming their owners home and the soft whimpers of a blurry creature not far away from Harry.

Harry crawled towards his cousin, his hands shaking once he reached Dudley’s form. His cousin flinched away from his touch before any food that Dudley had consumed that day was spewed onto the concrete. Harry grimaced at the foul smell, at least his cousin was alive and had not been kissed either of the dementors.

“Hey Dud, think you can make it home?” Harry only received a pathetic moan in response. But Harry decided to take it as confirmation. He dreaded having to help Dudley home but It would do them no good to wait out in the open for the dementors to return or have something worse ambush them. 

Harry struggled to keep Dudley on his feet as he dragged Dudley’s unhelping form back to Private Drive. Harry was grateful, having found his glasses in relatively good shape near his cousin’s feet. The arms bent slightly askew, and one of the lenses half pulled out. But would fix them once he reached his room. Harry doubted his cousin would be thankful if he ran into one of the many television poles and the glasses allowed him to keep his eyes open for any more enemies.

Clutching his wand tightly Harry made sure to be vigilant in watching his surroundings, not relaxing even one they neared the path leading up to the Dursleys’ home. Harry shuffled his feet, trying desperately not to drop Dudley, using his body to hold Dudley’s heavyweight, unwilling to drop his wand in his right hand, and used his free one to rap onto the front door as loudly as he could.

As he heard the muffled clicking of Aunt Petunia’s heels hitting the carpet floor as she walked Harry tried not to dwell on the worry of how the Dursleys would react to their son in such a state, and to forget about the upcoming punishment. He could just make out the deformed shape of his thin aunt nearing, though the frosted glass window.

“Duddy-kin?” Aunt Petunia's high voice, carried a sweet but worried tone in it as she opened the door, a tone she would never direct at Harry. She immediately froze at the sight of Harry, only able to change from annoyance to fury as she saw her son.

“Duddy! What's wrong? What did he do to you!” 

Harry was mildly surprised that Aunt Petunia was able to take all of her giant son’s weight but she managed to pull Dudley along the hallway, quicker than Harry would have been able to, all the while fussing over Dudley. Her worry growing when Dudley could only answer in weak groans and grunts.

“Vernon! VERNON! Come quick somethings wrong with Diddy!” 

Harry knew it was now the best time to sneak past his worrying aunt and incoherent cousin while his uncle was presented with his son in the living room. Harry would be blamed. He knew his fate and knew he would have no choice to even defend himself. It would not matter that he himself had not injured Dudley, the fact that something from his world had attacked Dudley, Harry’s uncle would conclude that it had something to do with Harry’s freakishness. 

And for once, Harry wondered if he would be able to deny any fault in the event that had just transpired. For all, he knew Voldemort had been the one to send to Dementors. He had heard a rumour that Voldemort had used Dementors in his army in the previous war. And if it was true what was to say he wouldn’t once more.

So Harry snuck past his relatives, heading straight for the stairs, hoping that he would make it to his room before Dudley regained the ability to speak.

“Who did it? Tell us so we can get those thugs.” Harry heard his uncle demand followed by a breathy groan and his aunt shushing her husband. 

“Him.” Harry froze knowing it was too late. He hesitated to look back at the room where his family huddled together then back up the stairs. He already had one foot on the bottom step and Harry doubted his Uncle would be able to catch him if he ran up the stairs.

“BOY!” Harry flinched at the sound of his uncle's booming voice. “COME HERE.”

Harry swallowed, his hands trembling as he gave the stairs one last look, before removing his foot from the steps. 

He entered the kitchen stiffly, his body ready to jump out of the way of any fists that might fly at him. But nothing came. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia gathered around their son who sat in a chair looking sickly. All eyes narrowed at Harry's presence and Harry decided it was safer to stand as far as he could from his uncle. 

“What did you do?” Uncle Veron no longer shouted, but Harry could tell he was just barely controlling his anger as a thick purple vein pulsed on Veron’s fat neck.

‘Nothing.” 

“What did you do you to son?” Uncle Veron immediately turned back to Dudley not even bothering to believe Harry.

“Yes, what did he do to you, Diddy?” Harry’s aunt’s voice quavered, “Did he use his-- his thing?”

To Harry’s dread, Dudley nodded. 

“I didn’t!” Harry’s voice raised two octaves, but it was no use, as Harry was about to explain what had really happened, a thick, ham-like hand backhanded harry. 

Harry stumbled at the force of Vernon's hit. His hand clutched at his throbbing cheek. No, Harry refused to cry.

“I didn’t do anything to him.” Harry bit out. His uncle huffed, still not believing Harry’s words. “It wasn’t me, it was the--” 

Harry was interrupted by a screech followed by a thud. Harry and the others all looked at the kitchen window where a brown owl tapped at the window. It had obviously hit the window. Harry wondered why an owl had arrived at this moment of all times but he still crossed over to the window in case the letter the owl carried was important. 

“OWLS! Don't you dare let that thing in boy!”

Harry ignored Uncle Vernon’s protests, unlocking the window. The owl immediately stuck out its leg, giving Harry access to the letter. Harry quickly untied the letter and no sooner had the envelope fallen into his hands did the owl fly away not even bothering to wait for a response. 

A green M had been stamped onto the white paper making it clear to Harry who it was from. A ball of something was stuck in his throat and his heart sunk to the bottom of his stomach as he quickly ripped the envelope and began to read. 

_ Dear Mr. Potter,  _

_ We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine this evening in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle. _

_ The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand. _

_ As you have already received an official warning for a previous offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Wizards’ Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 A.M. on August 12th.  _

_ Hoping you are well,  _

_ Yours sincerely, _

_ IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE _

_ Ministry of Magic _

It was as he feared. The ministry had known that he had performed underage magic and by the inclusion of a date and time of a hearing Harry doubted it would not be like the time Dobby had dropped dessert on his uncle's guests. 

Harry’s heart sank. It wasn’t like he had wanted to perform magic, Harry thought angrily, but the Ministry were on their way to destroy his wand, should he just run away? Was there anywhere he could go? But Harry didn’t move, his brain was still fogging but one thought seemed to penetrate through his murky thoughts. 

_ My magic. _

Harry closed his eyes trying to feel for the familiar pool of warmness that he now knew to be his magic. He found it but it worried him that his power felt  _ thin, _ like his magic was almost depleted. He recalled this sensation happening only twice before. The first after he had fought Quirrell in his first year and in his third when he and Sirius had been surrounded by hundreds of dementors. It had been before  _ he,  _ the Harry from the future, had saved them. 

Had it really taken that much out of him when the two dementors had arrived that evening? He remembered it being difficult to think of any happy memories but…

Harry shook his head, frowning. If the Ministry came now he would be defenceless, unable to use his magic to fight back.

Lost in his thoughts Harry was surprised to hear his uncle give an unholy screech as another owl flew through the now open window, the owl flying only millimeters above his head causing his uncle to duck and his arms flapping above his head. 

“OWLS!” Vernon bemoaned.

The barn owl simply dropped its package into Harry’s expectant hands not even bothering to land before flying out into the night.

_ Harry-- _

_ Dumbledore’s just arrived at the Ministry, and he’s trying to sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE’S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND. _

_ Arthur Weasley _

Harry had never been so thankful to see Mr Weasly’s handwriting before but Harry was still worried. Even though it seemed Dumbledore was trying to help him it still sounded like the Ministry were still on their way. But Harry was sure that if anyone, Dumbledore would be able to protect him, so he decided to listen to Mr Weasly and stay put. 

Harry collapsed onto a chair, looking up at his relatives who were all watching him.

“Who in the hell sent all those ruddy owls?” Harry’s uncle growled.

“The Ministry of Magic and my friend’s dad.”

“The Ministry of Magic?” Harry could tell his Uncle was struggling with the thought that there were enough of Harry’s kind to make up a government. “Your kind...in government? No wonder the country’s going to the dogs…What did they want?”

Harry hesitated, debating whether he should tell his uncle that he had indeed used magic, but if the Ministry was indeed on their way his Uncle would find out anyway. 

“I have been expelled,” Harry breathed out, “Because I did magic.”

“AHA!” Uncle Vernon roared triumphantly, a sausage finger pointing at Harry, “So you did do something freakish to Dudley!”

“I did not, it was the--”

“Was,” Dudley muttered and his parents turned to fuss over him. 

“Tell us, son, what did the freak do to you?”

“I already said I didn’t do anything--”

“SHUT UP!” Uncle Vernon roared. 

“He pointed his thing at me then--then” Dudley struggled to the words to describe what had happened, “it got all dark and I heard  _ things _ .”

Aunt Petunia whimpered, “Oh Diddy,” but Uncle Vernon glared at Harry. 

“You...you…” the man spluttered.

“It was horrible,” Dudley croaked, not done with his tale, “Cold. So cold. It felt...felt…”

“Like you would never feel happy again.” Harry studied his cousin, he wished that he could know what his spoiled cousin had seen. “It was the dementors they suck out a person's happiness.”

“What kind of spell-” 

“It's not a spell, they guard the wizard prison.”

Harry could see that his uncle was not convinced so Harry was grateful for the distraction of yet another owl sweeping into the kitchen.

“Effing owls,” Uncle Veron cursed.

It was a second letter from the Ministry and with bated breath, Harry ripped it open.

_ Dear Mr. Potter, _

__

_ Further to our letter of approximately twenty-two minutes ago, the Ministry of Magic has revised its decision to destroy your wand forthwith. You may retain your wand until your disciplinary hearing on 12th August, at which time an official decision will be taken. _

_ Following discussions with the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Ministry has agreed that the question of your expulsion will also be decided at that time. You should therefore consider yourself suspended from school pending further inquiries. _

_ With best wishes,  _

_ Yours sincerely,  _

_ IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE _ __

_ Ministry of Magic _

So he was no longer expelled and he could keep his wand for a little longer. Harry let out a sigh of relief, finally allowing himself to relax. 

“Well? Have they finally sentenced you to this wizard prison? Is that why those dementy things were here?” 

“No, I have a hearing.” Harry said before adding, “only then will I be sentenced.” at the hopeful look his uncle held.

“Then I won't give up hope.” Uncle Vernon sneered. 

The four of them sat in uncomfortable silence, and as Harry was about to ask if he could retire to his room a fourth owl entered the kitchen.

“FOR GOD'S SAKE!” Uncle Vernon roared but Harry ignored him unrolling the scroll he had extracted from the animal. It had to be from Dumbledore explaining everything but it wasn’t. With a disappointment he thought he would never feel Harry scanned over his godfather’s handwriting. Wondering why Sirius had written today of all days.

_ Arthur’s just told us what happened. _

_ Don’t leave the house again, whatever you do. _

Harry blinked at the short missive. Was that it? After no responses from his many letters all summer Sirius had finally bothered to write this short note that made Harry feel like he was a child being scolded. He knew better than to leave, Mr. Weasly had made that clear.

Harry wanted to rip the paper into pieces. To pretend he had never received any of the letters and run away to spite Sirius. To see what they would do. But he didn’t.

“If that's all, I'll be in my room.” Harry crushed the letter in his hand hoping he could hold in his anger till he was alone.

“OH NO, YOU DONT! I WANT THE TRUTH! WHAT HAPPENED TONIGHT?” Harry flinched at his uncle’s voice.

“I told you. We were attacked by dementors. I had to cast the Patronus charm in order to save us.”

“Hmph.” Aunt Petunia sniffed.

“What were those dem-thingies doing here anyways?” 

Harry paused before answering. He decided it was best not to throw his aunt and uncle into a panic at the news that Voldemort had returned. He was sure his uncle would kick him out.

“No idea,” Harry said weakly. He was so tired, even the anger he had felt minutes before had vanished.

“It’s you ain't it.” Uncle Vernon said with clarity, “It's gotta be you they are after. Why else would they come here? You are the only--freak for miles.”

Harry could barely muster up the strength to argue. “I don't know why they were here but they won't be coming back.”

Harry was glad when Dudley had been the one to ask if he could lay down to rest. It had stopped the conversation from returning to another shouting match. Aunt Petunia had handed Dudley to Uncle Vernon so that he could help Dudley up the stairs before she hurried around the kitchen, gathering supplies to make sick Dudley feel better.

“Boy don’t let me see you.” Uncle Vernon had growled just before Harry escaped into his bedroom. Harry was certain that Uncle Vernon would shut the locks that trapped Harry into his room sometime during the night anyways but Harry just nodded.

Alone, at last, Harry flipped the switch screwed by the door, fluorescent light blinding Harry and illuminating the room that Harry called his own. In one swift motion, Harry pulled his shirt over his head throwing it into the nearest corner. He wished to just sink into his bed and fall in the oblivion of sleep. He would even welcome the daily occurrence of nightmares just for a distraction of the night's events.

Harry was stopped, however, disturbed by his reflection. Dishevelled hair, broken glasses, grey skin and the clear outline of his ribs but Harry ignored his looks drawn to his forehead. Dried blood crusted on his skin. He reached up to gingerly touch his scar, the cursed scar that told everyone who he was, throbbing under his fingers.

Harry’s fingers bent, short nails digging under the skin to open the would and allow blood to flow freely from the wound. It was a sick sight, but Harry was unable to look away from the mirror. The scar that connected him to Voldemort. The scar that made him famous. The scar, the only reminder that he had once had a family that had loved him. Harry wanted to scratch it off to destroy the reminder. He wanted to know why. Why was it always him? And not for the first time, Harry wished Voldemort had succeeded all those years ago. 

_ Voldemort _ .

Closing his eyes, Harry finally dropped his hand back to his side. It had to be Voldemort who sent the dementors but Harry also knew that Voldemort wanted to kill Harry himself or at least witness his death. But Harry’s scar hadn’t burned. So then who could have done it? Death Eaters? The Ministry?

Knowing that he would get no answer Harry gave up thinking about it and crawled into his bed. Tomorrow he would write to Sirius he would ask to stay with the Weasleys anywhere but here.

♕♛♕

  
  


_ “Run! Cedric!” _

_ “Kill the spare!” _

_ “Avada Kedavra!” _

_ When Harry searched for the pathetic form of Wormtail to curse the rat he found nothing. A dark form hovered in space in front of him. Cedric's body lying lifeless between them.  _

_ Harry paused, something in him was telling him not to harm the shadow, but before he could decide to lift his wand the scene changed. _

_ “No! Not Harry!” A woman’s plea broke the darkness. Harry spun round searching for his mother.  _

_ “Foolish girl! Avada Kedavra!” The spell was shouted a second time but instead silence Harry was met with an inhuman scream filling the void, deafening Harry’s ears.  _

_ It continued and continued not stopping. Harry clasped his hands over his ear, dropping his wand, trying to shut out the noise. It did nothing if anything it became louder and louder until Harry felt something try and tear it way out through his chest. _

_ His stomach churned, his rib cage felt like it was being pushed out, through his skin. A scream caught in his own throat Harry glanced down. To his horror, a hand erupted from his chest. Long black fingers dripped with either tar or blood Harry did not know. It twitched, the fingers bending and extending.  _

_ Harry collapsed, the hand seeming to grow. It turned its claw-like fingers toward Harry. Trying to desperately touch his face and Harry panicked, crawling away from it. But it was still attached to him, a finger reaching to caress Harry’s cheek before sliding upward to touch Harry’s scar.  _

_ And Harry screamed and screamed and screamed. It felt worse than in the graveyard. Worse than when Voldemort had touched him with the purpose to inflict pain.  _

♕♛♕

“BE QUIET BOY!” 

Harry awoke in a panic, Uncle Vernon banging only stopped when he was sure of Harry’s silence. Harry panted, trying to catch his breath. 

The dream,  _ night terror,  _ he had was unlike the ones he had been having all summer. He didn’t know what it meant, why he had dreamed such a thing, but Harry knew he did not want to go back to sleep. 

Harry listened to the house, Dudley was snoring and by the absence of his uncle's grumbling he had fallen back asleep.

Harry sat up intending to write those letters but stopped when he saw Hedwig's empty cage. She had definitely been there when he fell asleep. Maybe she had gone hunting. Loneliness, an emptiness that Harry had never felt before seemed to claw at his skin, making him uncomfortable. 

He was unsure what the morning would bring. Worry of dementors and Ministry Aurors filled his aching head. But eventually, Harry returned to his bed and as his eyes slid shut for a second time Harry prayed that he did not experience that terror and agony again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some parts of this chapter is taken from Harry Poter and the Order of the Phoenix.

Hedwig did not return in the morning. The morning sun rose, its rays soon turning into the midday summer heat. Harry’s window stayed open, inviting, as he waited hopefully for his owl to return. In the house, outside his room, Harry could hear the thumping of feet travelling up and down the stairs, the clattering of cutlery, and the front door opening and closing signalling the Dursley’s departure. Harry was finally alone. 

Harry sat on his bed, oddly still, his eyes never leaving the window until the sun disappeared into the darkness. Soon he heard his Aunt return from her book club with the neighbourhood ladies who loved to gossip more than reading any of their romance novels. Then Dudley, returning from school and probably from leaving his latest victim unconscious. Then finally Uncle Vernon, his motor vehicle rumbling in the driveway until the engine was killed, the front door opened and closed for one final time. Harry listened as his relatives enjoyed their supper then move to the living room to watch the telly. 

Just how his relatives like to live, they would have rather Harry had never been born at all, and now they could act like Harry didn’t exist. The boy living in the spare bedroom was just a figment of their imagination. The only time they were forced to return to reality, and Harry was reminded he indeed was alive and not invisible, was when a plate of leftovers, cold, was pushed through the cat flap at the bottom of his door and the locks on the outside clicked allowing him to wash up. But Harry ignored the food and the small chance at freedom.

For three days he sat on his bed, unmoving, not sleeping. Ignoring the growls and pains that signalled hunger. He simply waited for Hedwig, hoping that his only friend had not also abandoned him. It seemed however avoiding sleep did not stop the nightmares as Harry still heard the whispers, the hissing. 

“.....Harry….” 

Harry blinked, determined not to turn his head at his mirror. Afraid that he would be met with red eyes and a snake-like face the colour of death. 

“...Harry…” 

On the third night, Harry shook himself out of his trance, slowly stretching, and finally looking away from the window. His legs felt weak but Harry still stood looking around his room. Harry, his heart heavy, slowly gathered what little was his, placing it in a bag. Planning to recover his trunk and the majority of his things which still sat in the cupboard under the stairs. _His old room._

Once he had everything he wanted, birthday cards, candy, and some clothes, Harry stepped to the window. He stuck his head out looking out over Private drive, the hot summer evening leaving Harry feeling parched. He ducked his head back inside, Harry sucked in a breath before suddenly closing the glass with a thud and a click locking it shut. 

Harry’s fingers brushed against the cold steel of Hedwig’s cage. _Betrayal._ That was what Harry was feeling as he looked at the cage. _His only friend._ The only being in the world that had stuck by him. Comforted him. Loved him. Had never judged him.

She was gone and he was left alone. Alone and helpless. 

Harry’s heart ached at the thought of having to leave the wizarding world. Leaving the only place he belonged. What if the Ministry ruled against him? Would they send him to Azkaban? Harry was sure the Dursley’s would find his predicament hilarious and would gladly kick him out into the streets as soon as possible.

Harry wondered if his friends, if Sirius, would miss him or would he be shunned once more. An outcast to all. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud series of thudding at his bedroom door. The knocks shaking his door and Harry wondered if it might fall.

“Boy!” Vernon shouted through the wood making Harry roll his eyes. He did not bother to answer knowing Vernon would continue speaking whether or not he did.

“Boy! We will be leaving!”

“Sorry?” Harry didn’t care where the Dursleys were going. Just like they did not bother to even open his bedroom door.

“‘Tuny, Dudley, and I are going out.”

“I See.”

“You are not allowed to leave your room until we return and you are not to steal from the fridge,” Vernon growled through the door. 

Harry scoffed ignoring the locks on his door clicking in place. Any worry about food or water was far from his mind. All that mattered was that the Dursley’s were gone and he could finally have some peace and quiet before he left. 

But the quiet did not help, he felt trapped. Stuck in this cage. Harry longed to just leave before the Dursley’s returned but he was stopped by the glint of the empty metal cage. _Just one more night._ Harry still hoped for Hedwig's return. So Harry sank once more onto his bed, feeling like his only option to wallow in his unfortunateness, and Harry once again slept.

He was awoken by a clattering and a loud crash from the floor below., Harry's stomach grumbling in protest as he shifted out of his sheets. His appetite had finally returned after many days but Harry knew the Dursley’s would not be gratuitous enough to give him food more food. He would have to wait till at least tomorrow for the Dursley’s to even remember freaks like him still needed to be fed. But the longer he listened to the movement downstairs the more Harry doubted it was the Dursley’s returning. Burglars? Doubtful. 

_Death Eaters._

Harry did not know how they found him but he would not go without a fight. He stood, raising his wand, in his predicament, Harry doubted he could do much damage to any death eaters that made it through his door but he wasn’t going to say he didn’t try. He would hopefully be able to take out a few before they dragged him to Voldemort. Maybe he could poke them in the eyes and make a run for it.

Harry heard the sound of voices, then the sound of several pairs of feet thumping up the stairs, stopping in front of his door. Harry readied himself hearing the lock give a loud click and his door creak opened. 

“Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone’s eye out,” Harry froze, he recognized that voice but it did not relieve his fears. 

“Professor Moody?” Harry whispered.

“I don’t know so much about ‘Professor,’” growled the voice, “never got round to much teaching, did I?” 

Harry’s wand arm shook. He did not want to lower his wand, no matter that it was useless, but he was still uncertain. He had spent almost a whole year trusting and even confiding in someone who claimed to be Moody but was, in reality, a Death Eater who had tried to kill him.

“Harry, it’s alright. We’ve come to take you away.” 

Harry’s heart lept and he almost wept. Harry would recognize that voice anywhere. Harry’s eyes landed on the familiar face of another ex-Professor of his and a friend of his parents. Remus Lupin. 

“Professor Lupin?”

  
  


“Why are we all standing in the dark?” a woman spoke out of the darkness, this one completely unfamiliar to him. “Lumos.” 

Harry was greeted by Moody, Remus and the unfamiliar female.

“Wotcher, Harry! I’m Tonks!” Said the witch. 

“Are you quite sure it’s him, Lupin?” Moody growled. “How do we know he ain’t a death eater in disguise?”

Harry might’ve felt miffed if he hadn’t questioned the same thing about them.

“Harry, what form does your Patronus take?” asked Lupin.

“A stag,” stated Harry nervously still eying his guests. 

“That’s him, Mad-Eye,” said Lupin and Harry finally decided to lower his wand, he doubted a death eater would question if one of their own was impersonating him and Remus was one of the few that knew the form of his Patronus, 

“How are you, Harry?” Lupin asked, looking at Harry closely. Relief that it was truly Harry shown in his warm smile.

“F-fine . . .” Harry could hardly believe this was real, he hoped they were here to recuse him. 

“Harry?” Harry jumped, he hadn’t heard Remus come closer, lost in his thoughts. As Harry inhaled he smelled a musky earthy scent and wondered if the reason he had not heard Remus move was because of his wolf. 

“Is something the matter?” 

Harry’s heartbeat quicken and he wondered if Remus had figured it out. He had heard rumours that werewolves could smell more than normal humans. 

“He looks fine to me, Remus,” the woman spoke.

“No,” the gruff voice of Moody spoke and Harry heard the distinct sound of Moody’s wooden leg drag itself closer, “There is something off. Speak up, boy.”

Harry avoiding looking at the others, “It’s—my magic is gone.”

It was the first time he had admitted the fact out loud. Forcing Harry to no longer pretend that nothing was wrong. Four nights ago, after that terrible nightmare, Harry had felt _it_. Had felt empty and weak. At first, he hadn’t known what was wrong, had chalked it up to the disturbing dream he had but the longer Harry had waited for Hedwig the harder it was was to ignore the emptiness of something important.

_His magic was gone._ Vanished. Drained. 

The room was silenced, Moody’s magical eye looked Harry up and down. The woman held her mouth open in shock. Remus, however, stepped forward and hugged him. 

Harry encased in the Mooney’s warmth, his arms wrapped around the older man’s back. 

“How-- how did this happen?” 

Harry shrugged, “After the dementors attacked us, my magic felt small and when I woke up the next morning it was completely gone.”

“Magic exhaustion.” Moody huffed. But Harry was not convinced it had already been several days and there was no sign of his magic returning. 

“Don’tcha worry Harry the healers at Mungos will be able to fix you right up,” the woman, Tonks, giggled. Harry hoped so. 

“We’ll figure it out once we reach the house. For the meantime, Harry let’s meet the people below. They are dying to see you.” 

Harry nodded and followed Moody and the witch down the stairs. He was thankful Lupin’s hand never left his shoulder, its comforting heat reminding Harry that he was alone. That he had been rescued. That it wasn’t a dream. 

At the bottom of the stairs, Harry was met by a group of wizards who all froze at the sight of their group. Eyes wide with admiration and awe. Harry shuffled, awkward with all the attention. Lupin pushed him slightly forward, giving Harry a slight nodded of encouragement.

“He looks exactly like James.”

“Except the eyes,” said a wheezy-voiced wizard. “Lily’s eyes.” 

“You’re really lucky the Dursleys are out . . .” Harry mumbled to the room full of witches and wizards. He could only imagine how the Dursleys would react to even just Remus let alone a whole bunch of wizards.

“Lucky, ha!” said the woman he’d met earlier, “It was me that lured them out of the way. Sent a letter by Muggle post telling them they’d been short-listed for the All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition. They’re heading off to the prize-giving right now. . . . Or they think they are.” 

Harry had a fleeting vision of Uncle Vernon’s face when he realized there was no All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition. 

“Will we be leaving?” he asked. “Soon?”

“Almost at once,” said Lupin, “we’re just waiting for the all-clear.” 

“Where are we going? The Burrow?” Harry asked hopefully.

“Not the Burrow, no,” said Lupin and pushed Harry forward, leading Harry to what he knew was the kitchen. “Too risky. We’ve set up headquarters somewhere undetectable. It’s taken a while . . .” 

“Now,” Lupin spun round his arm gesturing to the group of strangers, “time to introduce you, as you know Alistair Moody,” and grunt came from Harry’s left, “And the witch from earlier is Nymphadora ”

“Don’t call me Nymphadora, Remus. Like I said Harry it is Tonks.” said the witch making a disgusted noise. “Tonks.” 

“Kingsley Shacklebolt” he indicated, the said wizard acknowledged Remus with a nod, “ and Elphias Doge” 

“What an honour!” the wheezy-voiced wizard spoke once more, taking harry’s hand abruptly and shaking his whole arm vigorously. Harry was grateful when the man finally let go.

“Dedalus Diggle ”

“We’ve met before,” squeaked the excitable Diggle, Harry cringed worried this man would also grab his hand.

“—Emmeline Vance, Sturgis Podmore, and Hestia Jones.” 

Harry inclined his head awkwardly, bowing slightly to the whole room as they were introduced. Once Remus had finished with the introductions Harry wished they would look at something other than him. He could feel their stares burning holes into him, it was as though he had suddenly been ushered onstage. 

He could see that there was quite a number of them and wondered why so many of them were there. They were just travelling to another house where he would stay for the rest of the summer, right.

“A surprising number of people volunteered to come and get you,” said Lupin, as though he had read Harry’s mind.

“Yeah, well, the more the better,” said Moody darkly. “We’re your guard, Potter.”

Harry nodded, mutely. He wished there hadn’t been so many but he knew he couldn’t blame them. 

“We’ve got about fifteen minutes,” Lupin spoke to harry.

“Very clean, aren’t they, these Muggles?” said the witch called Tonks, “My dad’s Muggle-born and he’s a right old slob. I suppose it varies, just like with wizards?” 

“Er yeah,” said Harry.

“Look” he turned back to Lupin “what’s going on, I haven’t heard anything from anyone, what’s Vol ?” 

Several of the witches and wizards made odd hissing noises “Shut up!”

“What?” said Harry.

“We’re not discussing anything here, it’s too risky,” said Moody

“How’re we getting wherever we’re going?” Harry asked.

“Brooms,” said Lupin. “Only way. You’re too young to Apparate, they’ll be watching the Floo Network, and it’s more than our life’s worth to set up an unauthorized Portkey.”

“Remus says you’re a good flier,” said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep voice. 

“He’s excellent,” said Lupin, who was checking his watch. “But I think this time he rides with one of us. Anyway, you should sit. I’ll go up and gather your stuff, Harry, we want to be ready to go when the signal comes.”

Remus left Harry to deal with the stares of the others and uncomfortable silence.

“You know, I don’t think purple’s really my colour,” Tonks said pensively, breaking the silence. Harry turned towards her voice. “D’you all think it makes me look a bit peaky?”

“Er,” said Harry, wondering what was the purpose of the conversation.

“Yeah, it does,” said Tonks decisively, and in the next instant Tonks purple hair turned into bubble-gum pink. Harry was so surprised that he almost choked on the air.

“I like the pink much better,” the deep voice of Kingsly surprised Harry.

“How--?”

“I’m a Metamorphmagus,” she said, “It means I can change my appearance at will,” 

“Can you learn how to be a Metamorphmagus?” Harry asked her, straightening up, completely forgetting about the others.

Tonks chuckled. “Bet you wouldn’t mind hiding that scar sometimes, eh?” 

“No, I wouldn’t mind,” Harry mumbled, turning away. He did not like people staring at his scar. 

“Well, you’ll have to learn the hard way, I’m afraid,” said Tonks.“Metamorphmagi are really rare, they’re born, not made. Most wizards need to use a wand or potions to change their appearance. . . .”

“So what broom do you have?” Doge wheezed, changing the subject noticing Harry’s dismayed expression.

“A firebolt.”

“Wow! A Firebolt ?” Tonks leaned closer until Harry could feel her hot breath. It was his pride and joy, a gift from Sirius, and an international standard broomstick.

“And I’m still riding a Comet Two Sixty,” said Tonks enviously. “Ah well . . . “

Tonks stopped talking at the sight of Lupin returning with Harry’s things. 

“Excellent,” said Lupin. “We’ve got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we’re ready. Harry, I’ve left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry ” 

“They won’t,” Harry scoffed.

“Come on,” said Lupin ignored Harry’s words ushering everyone out into the garden, unlocking the back door with his wand. They all stepped outside onto Uncle Vernon’s beautifully kept lawn.

“Come here, boy,” said Moody gruffly, pulling Harry close. “I need to disillusion you.” 

“You need to what?” said Harry nervously. 

“Disillusionment Charm,” said Moody, raising his wand. “Lupin says you’ve got an Invisibility Cloak, but it won’t stay on while we’re flying; this’ll disguise you better. Here you go ” 

He rapped Harry hard on the top of the head and Harry felt a curious sensation as though Moody had just smashed an egg there; cold trickles seemed to be running down his body from the point the wand had struck. 

“Nice one, Mad-Eye,” said Tonks appreciatively and Harry was curious about what was occurring.

“It makes you like a human chameleon. Youll blend into your surroundings.”

“Clear night,” grunted Moody, his magical eye scanning the heavens. “Could’ve done with a bit more cloud cover. Right, you,” he barked at Harry, “we’re going to be flying in close formation. You’ll be riding with Lupin, Tonks’ll be right in front of you. I’m going to be behind you. The rest’ll be circling us. We don’t break ranks for anything, got me? If one of us is killed ” 

“Is that likely?” Harry asked apprehensively, but Moody ignored him.

“—the others keep flying, don’t stop, don’t break ranks. If they take out all of us and you survive, Harry, the rear guards are standing by to take over; keep flying east and they’ll join you.” 

“Stop being so cheerful, Mad-Eye, he’ll think we’re not taking this seriously,” said Tonks

“I’m just telling the boy the plan,” growled Moody. “Our job’s to deliver him safely to headquarters and if we die in the attempt ” 

“No one’s going to die,” said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep, calming voice. Harry was quickly warming up to the man.

“Mount your brooms, that’s the first signal!” said Lupin sharply, pointing into the sky. 

Harry was unsure what the signal was but he mounted Lupin’s broom, wrapping his arms tightly around Lupin’s torso.

“Second signal, let’s go!” said Lupin loudly. Harry jolted forward as Lupin kicked his feet against the ground pushing them into the air.

The cool night air rushed through his hair as they flew higher and higher.

“Hard left, hard left, there’s a Muggle looking up!” shouted Moody from behind him. Lupin swerved in response. “We need more height. . . . Give it another quarter of a mile!” 

Harry’s eyes watered in the chill as they soared upward; Harry laughed aloud as the group sped through the night air, though his voice was drowned by the flapping of the others’ robes, the creaking of the harness holding his trunk and the cage, the whoosh of the wind in their ears as they sped through the air. 

He had not felt this alive in a month, or this happy. . . . . Some things didn’t change. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t the one steering the broom. He was just glad to be up in the air. He felt free. He seemed to have left his worries on the ground. 

“Bearing south!” shouted Mad-Eye. “Town ahead!” 

“Bear southeast and keep climbing, there’s some low cloud ahead we can lose ourselves in!” called Moody.

“We’re not going through clouds!” shouted Tonks angrily. “We’ll get soaked, Mad-Eye!” 

Harry was relieved to hear her say this; his hands were growing numb, becoming harder to hold onto Remus. He wished he had thought to put on a coat; he was starting to shiver. They altered their course every now and then according to Mad-Eye’s instructions. 

Harry’s eyes were screwed up against the rush of icy wind that was starting to make his ears ache. He could remember being this cold on a broom only once before, during the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff in his third year, which had taken place in a storm. 

  
  


“Turning southwest!” yelled Moody. “We want to avoid the motorway!” 

Harry lost track of time. He wondered how long they had been flying; it felt like an hour at least. Harry was now so chilled that he thought longingly for a moment of the snug, dry interiors of the cars streaming along below, then, even more longingly, of travelling by Floo powder; it might be uncomfortable to spin around in fireplaces but it was at least warm in the flames. . . .

“We ought to double back for a bit, just to make sure we’re not being followed!” Moody shouted. 

“ARE YOU MAD, MAD-EYE?” Tonks screamed from the front. “We’re all frozen to our brooms! If we keep going off course we’re not going to get there until next week! We’re nearly there now!” 

“Time to start the descent!” came Lupin’s voice. 

Harry was tremendously grateful to be on the ground. Remus helped him not to trip over any of the brooms. Moody took Harry by the arm and led him from the patch of grass, across the road, and onto the pavement. The muffled pounding of a stereo was coming from a nearby house. A pungent smell of rotting rubbish coming from the pile of bulging bin-bags filling his nose.

“Silencio.” Moody muttered, “Read carefully. Harry was unsure what Moody wanted as the man gave him a small piece of paper.

_“The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is up! I hope you all enjoyed it, I do know that things are still a little slow but the next chapter Harry will be reunited with Ron and Hermione, along with Sirius of course. And we all know how that went in the book. 
> 
> Things are still building up, so the next coming chapters will be Harry trying to find answers and wallow in self pity. Poor Harry has trust issues.
> 
> Next chapter will be posted next Monday, 9/28. 
> 
> Comments are a writers bread and wine so please leave what you think so far.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as an apology, I am throwing chapters at you lol.
> 
> A better explanation is at the end of chapter 6, have fun reading!

Harry cringed as he was greeted by a formless shadow. As he studied the  _ thing _ closer from its appearance it looked to be a mix of a dementor and a human. Its long fingers reached out towards Harry, as low moans came from where Harry guessed its head would be.

“Expecto Patronum.” Light shot out of his wand but instead of a stag, a unicorn materialized. The unicorn circled the shadow once twice, even nudging the form with its head but the shadow did not run away. Instead, its fingers turned to slash at the Patronus making the unicorn neigh in distress and run from the shadow, past Harry, where it finally disappeared. 

Harry flinched as the Patronus passed through him, but he was frozen watching the form bring its hand to the space where its mouth should be. The shadow seemed to gasp, a long black forked tongue tasted what remained of the Patronus on the shadows hand. Harry gagged, disgusted at what he was looking at and terrified what the shadow would do when it returned its gaze to him.

The shadow continued its slow feast of the remnants of Harry’s Patronus until all the white wisps had been cleaned. Harry watched as the shadow seemed to grow darker, sharper and when it finally glanced at him, Harry was meant by a pair of glowing red eyes.

“No,” Harry breathed. 

“No,” He spoke louder, his feet already backing away. “Stay away from me. Stay away!” His last words were shouted, the shadow suddenly appearing nearer then it had only seconds before. It reached out its hand, its finger curling and uncurling, its mouth open to expose its long black tongue. Harry shook his head fervently, any cries trapped in his throat.

Before it could come any closer Harry turned and ran. Ran away from the awful apparition. He ran until he could no longer breath, taking the chance to rest and look behind him. Nothing. Harry gave a relieved gasp. It was gone.

Harry stood looking around the room he was in. No, it resembled more of a hallway than a room. The hall dimly lit, but Harry could still make out the shape of a door at the end of the hall. He glanced one more behind him still not seeing the shadow but he did not want to chance running into the shadow again so Harry decided to check out the door. He carefully walked towards the door and as he neared Harry became aware of a strange compulsion of wanting, having to know what was on the other side but just as fingers brushed against the knob…

“Harry, mum says get up. Breakfast’s ready!” George's loud voice awoke Harry from his dream, Harry's hand automatically reaching for his tingling scar. 

“What?” As Harry blinked, trying to grasp his surroundings Harry heard a door open.

“Great! You are up, I thought I heard you.” 

George grabbed the dark curtain currently blocking the sunlight from lighting the room and promptly pulled it to the side. “Good morning.”

“Ugh,” Harry groaned his arm shielding his sensitive eyes. “Really George?”

George grinned, “Hurry up mum saved you breakfast. She let you sleep in a little saying you're probably exhausted from the journey.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“Trust me you won't be thanking her much longer. She has us set on cleaning even more now that we have an extra pair of hands.”

And so began Harry’s days of cleaning the Black manor. Breakfast was quick and in an instant Mrs Weasley had all the teens dressed and armed with spray bottles to begin in the first room of her choosing. Ron and Ginny were the ones to complain the most, Ginny still acting out at her be left out the night before dragged her feet the whole time. Harry chanced a smile at Hermione, who said nothing but he knew she also was not happy cleaning up the hundreds of pixies by the way her nose twitched and her lips stayed pressed together in a thin white line. 

Fred and George however, were oddly helpful. The first to step up to stray the moth-eaten curtains along with their mother. Harry was sure he was the only one who noticed when Mrs Weasley turned her back they pushed the pixies into their pockets instead of the many trash bags.

Fred caught Harry's curious gaze and when he snuck to Harry’s side Fred whispered about pixies being an important ingredient for one of their newest products.

“So the joke shops still on?” Harry muttered.

“Of course. Thanks to you. Though we just need an address, so right now we are just running a mail-order service.”

Harry smiled, glad that the Triwizard Tournament last year would bring some good. Harry had no regret giving his winnings to the twins but as he glanced at Mrs Weasley Harry wondered how long it would take for her to find out about the twins' business and he dreaded the row that would ensue.

As order members began arriving in the early afternoon, interrupting their work by ringing the front doorbell and disturbing Sirius’ mother, Mrs Weasley was forced to answer the door and leave the children behind.

Fred and George immediately pulled out extendable ears, “Reckon she won't have time to set up any awards.” 

Ginny nodded also rushing to the door, but it was needless, a shouting match ensued between Mrs Weasley and Mundungus over stolen cauldrons, loud enough for the whole house to hear and allowing Lady Black to once again begin her screeching.

Harry, however, was distracted by the small form of a house-elf, he had never seen before, sneaking by the twins and Ginny. The elf appeared to be grumbling to itself, but it was loud enough for everyone to understand its words.

“That's Kreature. The Black’s house-elf” Ron jutted his head toward the elf. The elf looked old, as it shuffled across the room hunching over itself. “Mad isn't?”

“Ron,” Hermione scolded as she swatted Ron, “He's just lonely. Hello Kreature. How are you?”

“Filthy mudblood thinks she can speak to Kreature. Oh! What would my mistress say? Oh what would she say--” 

“Don’t call her a mudblood,” Ron snapped but Hermione waved him to be quiet.

“It doesn’t matter, he’s not in his right mind.” 

Fred and Ginny scoffed.

“Stop kidding yourself, Hermione,” George said, rolling his eyes.

Hermione frowned but decided to ignore George turning back to the elf, “Anyways, Kreature this is Harry. Harry Potter.”

“Is it true? Kreature finds it hard to believe such a weak boy could defeat the Dark Lord. Oh but Kreature can see the scar so it must be true. Kreature wonders how he did if he really did…”

Harry was forced to agree with Kreature. He still had his doubts about whether he was really the savour everyone thought he was.

“Ah but Kreature heard Harry Potter is a squib, must be his punishment for defeating the dark lord. The dark lord would never let such disrespect go unpunished.”

“Shut up Kreature,” a new voice snapped. Harry looked up at Sirius’ grim face. “What do you want Kreature, and you better not say cleaning.”

“Kreature is cleaning master Black.'' Sirius snorted, “Master is the one who ruined this house Kreature won’t allow such filth to stay. Oh, what would my mistress say? She’d never let Kreature live if she knew Kreature allowed them to get rid of the tapestry.

“Of course it is the tapestry. Don’t worry yourself she probably put one of those permanent sticking charms. Now go away, Kreature.”

The house-elf immediately scuttled away and out of the room Sirius slamming the door behind the elf.

“Bloody elf.” Sirius walked across the room to the tapestry Kreature had pointed out, Harry following behind.

**The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black**

**Toujours Pur**

Harry quickly scanned the embroidered names, noticing several things at once. “You’re not on here.’

“Course not.” Sirius pointed at a charred hole on the tapestry, “I was here before I ran away. The moment I left my mother took no time in basting me off.”

“You ran away from home?” Harry looked up, surprised.

“When I turned sixteen I finally had enough of this family. Ran to your dad’s place. Your grandparents were amazing, welcoming me with open arms and not caring about my family’s history.

“But...why?” Harry knew that he wouldn’t hesitate at the opportunity to leave the Dursleys and he did not doubt Sirius’ mother wasn’t the nicest. But the way Sirius spoke made Harry suspect that something had happened that caused Sirius to finally run.

Sirius sighed, a pained smile crossing his face. “Toujours Pur. Always pure. I hated them all, with their pureblood mania and the Black madness making them believe being a Black was equal to royalty. That anyone different was less than.” Sirius pointed to the name next to his own black spot.

_ Regulus Arcturus Black  _

_ 1961-1979 _

“My idiot brother believed in the nonsense my parents sprouted. He was younger than me,” Sirius' voice seemed to tremble slightly, “and a much better son as my mother constantly reminded me.”

“But he died,” Harry said staring at the second date, 1979. He would have been only 18.

“Yeah, stupid idiot… joined the death eaters.”

Harry’s head turned, Harry's eyes widened. Sirius snorted. “Haven’t you noticed? My family was not the lightest of families.”

“Yeah but…” Harry had a hard time believing that Sirius’ brother had joined Voldemort when he was so young.

“Did the Auror’s get him?”

“Oh no.” Sirius scoffed, “He was murdered by Voldemort, or more likely on his orders. From what I know he got so far in and panicked. Tried to back out. But as you know you can’t just retire from Voldemort's service. Its a lifetime of loyal service or death.”

Mrs Weasley joined them once more with several trays filled with sandwiches, “Lunch,” she called out snapping Sirius from his thoughts. Harry hovered by the tapestry for a few more seconds, his eyes still on the name Regulus Black. 

Harry felt silly. Of course, Voldemort had recruited as many wizards as possible for his army. Voldemort probably hadn't waited till Regulus had even graduated Hogwarts. This was the same dark lord that had tried to kill Harry as an infant. A heartless monster.

Harry silently followed as the others moved from room to room dealing with the various items the Black household hid. From magical music boxes that made everyone sleepy to boxes filled with Wartcap powder, which Harry spotted George sneak into his pocket. Harry overall was uninterested in the ‘treasures’ as Kreature put it. He remembered the way Sirius spoke of his family and their affiliation with the dark arts and wholeheartedly agreed with Mrs Weasley that it was best to throw everything out. 

“Hey, Harry try and open this locket.” Harry blinked as George dropped a heavy gold locket into his hands. 

“None of us could get it open, maybe you can?” The redhead explained.

“It could be dangerous,” Hermione warned, watching them with narrowed eyes. 

“Live a little,” Fred scoffed, standing on the other side of harry. Harry passed the locket from hand to hand, its metal giving off a cool refreshing feeling. It didn’t seem dangerous. Harry shrugged, bringing the locket closer to his face, inspecting the edges for any grooves or knobs indicating a latch until he too shook his head. 

“I can’t open.” the twins and Ron all groaned but Hermione sniffed. 

“Now get rid of it. All these things are giving me the creeps.” Hermione shivered.

“Yeah,” Ron nodded, joining Hermione by her side. The twins wandering off in search of more ingredients for their experiments. Harry, however, glanced around the room to make sure no one was looking and slipped the locket into his pocket. 

Soon Mrs Weasley called them down to dinner before ushering them off to bed and away from the newest order meeting. Harry narrowly avoided Snape's hate-filled glare, greeting Remus and Moody on his way to his bedroom. 

Ron was soon fast asleep, tried from the cleaning, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts in their darkroom. Harry glanced at Ron once more to make sure he was truly asleep, a steady rhythm of snores coming from the bundle of sheets. Harry smiled his fingers pulling out the locket he had taken earlier. 

Harry was still unsure of why he took it. The green  _ S _ embossed with emeralds seemed gaudy to him but as Harry stared at the locket in the dim light Harry found himself unable to look away. His thumb kept running over the gold as if the piece of jewellery was precious to him. Harry finally blinked as he had a wild thought.  _ This was his _ .

Harry wanted to kick himself. This belonged to the Black family, he had never seen this locket before. But it felt right in his hands and they were just going to throw it away anyways. No one would have to know.

Harry briefly wondered if there was some sort of enchantment on the locket to make him so… so obsessed. But Harry shrugged off the feeling, slipping the gold chain over his head and hiding the locket under his top before closing his eyes.

  
It doesn’t matter. I can’t let them throw this out. I must keep it safe.  _ Safe _ . Were Harry's last thoughts before he too fell into slumber.


	4. Chapter 4

“Where are we? What is the Order of--” 

“Not here boy!” Moody hissed.

Harry rolled his eyes tired of the ex-Auror's antics. 

Harry squinted, noticing that he could make out the silver numbers of eleven and thirteen, but no number twelve. But Harry was sure that Moody wouldn’t have brought Harry to a nonexistent address.

“You must think about what you've just read,” Lupin whispered into his ear. Confused, Harry thought about the parchment Moody had just burnt. 

_ The headquarters of the Order of Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London. _

It didn’t take long for Harry to understand, once he reached the address to the missing house once more a door popped out between houses 11 and 13. The old battered door was followed by a dark, dirty wall and broken, dusty windows revealing number twelve Grimmauld Place.

“Come on, hurry,” growled Moody. 

Harry allowed the other wizards to all pass him still staring at the house. He wondered what the Order of Phoenix was and why they met at such a run-down hovel. 

Remus tapped the door once, ignoring the silver door knocker in the form of a twisted serpent that eerily reminded Harry of the serpent knobs in a particular girls bathroom.

“Get in but don’t touch anything,” Moody jutted his chin towards the now open door. Harry listened, stepping off worn cobble steps onto a ruined green carpet. The hall was almost completely dark, the only light coming from a door at the end, and dusty. Harry shivered, the house not much warmer than the chill outside. 

Harry stepped to the side as the others filled in behind him Lupin and Tonks carrying his trunk and Hedwig's empty cage. With a wave of Moody’s wand followed by a soft hissing and spluttering the oil lamps lining the wall of the hallway came to life. 

“Stay still boy,” Moody’s gruff voice sounded foreign in the cramped entry. Harry flinched as Moody once again rapped his head, the disillusionment charm now lifted.

  
  


Hurried footsteps were followed by a form existing from the room at the far end of the hall. As the form approached Harry was greeted by Mrs Weasly beaming with her arms outstretched to pull Harry into a bone-crushing hug.

“Oh Harry dear,” She said, pushing Harry away to get a good look at him, “You are looking a bit peaky. Have they been feeding you? No matter, we have plenty of food, unfortunately, you will have to wait a bit for dinner…”

As the woman commented on his appearance, Harry noted that Mrs Weasley was also rather thin and paler than when he had last seen her.

“He’s arrived so the meeting has just started,” Mrs Weasley spoke to the wizards still standing behind him, and Harry wondered who  _ he _ was. At Mrs Weasley's words, the wizards grew excited all quickly filing past Harry.

“And you dear,” Mrs Weasley turned to Harry, “Ron and Hermione are upstairs. They’ve been waiting for you.”

“But—“ Harry glanced at the room the wizards including Remus had disappeared into. 

“Sorry Harry, the meeting’s only for members of the Order. Now up you go, second floor the door on the right.” Mrs Weasley prodded Harry towards the stairs, “And be quiet you don’t want to wake anything up.” 

Mrs Weasley, once she was sure Harry would listen to her and go up the stairs, also disappeared, joining the order and its important meeting. 

Harry hovered on the bottom steps wondering if he would be caught eavesdropping but decided to first talk to Ron and Hermione in hopes that they would be able to fill him in. But Harry vowed he would get answers.

The darkness seemed to amplify Harry’s frustration. He could just make out, on the wall, a row of shrunken heads belonging to long-dead house-elves. Harry was unsure why the Order let alone Mrs Weasley would willingly stay in a house that obviously been owned by dark wizards. 

Harry stopped before the bedroom door slightly thankful it was not in the form of a serpent. Harry could make out hushed talking that stopped as he grabbed the knob, turning it and opening the door to reveal a bushy-haired girl and a red-headed male. 

Harry didn’t have time to open his mouth in a greeting before Hermione shrieked throwing herself at him. 

“HARRY! You’re here! You're actually here!” 

Harry felt as if Hermione would crack his ribs with the strength of her hug and she didn’t let go until Ron had dragged her off of Harry.

“Oi let him breathe. Merlin Hermione. It's good to see you mate.”

“It's good to see you too.” Harry smiled. He let it finally sink in that he had indeed been rescued.

“Oh Harry you must be so angry,” Hermione made for another hug, however, Harry stepped out of her reach just as Ron grabbed her. “We are so sorry we didn’t write, Dumbledore told us it was too dangerous and then when he told us what had happened we were so worried.”

Harry’s eye twitched, as Ron nodded vigorously agreeing with Hermione. So Dumbledore had been the one stopping his letters. Even so, they could have answered his letters mentioning that they were not allowed to write. They could have at least snuck a letter or two by Mrs Wealsey’s nose in an attempt to reassure Harry. To remind Harry that they still cared. But no, knowing Hermione she hadn’t even bothered to write him anything. Hermione had always believed that the adults were always right, especially Dumbledore. And seeing how Ron’s arm stayed around her waist Harry suspected that Ron had followed her lead.

“When we heard!” Hermione continued on her rant about the Ministry oblivious to Harry growing anger. “They can’t do anything, so don’t worry. I’ve looked it all up. They can’t expel or break your wand! They just can’t, in the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Sorcery they allow the use of magic in life-threatening situations.”

Harry's gaze was stolen by an irritated hoot coming from the perch in the corner of the room. Pigwidgeon was miffed that he was being ignored.

“Did Hedwig come here?”

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances, “Um, no. We assumed she was with you.”

Hermoine looked worried and Harry felt like he had to defend himself. Hide the fact that Hedwig had abandoned him. 

“I see. We left before she returned from hunting so I wondered if she made it first. I guess when she sees me missing she'll look for me.” 

With the absence of his owl confirmed, Harry felt numb. How would his friends react when he broke the news? He could already imagine Hermione’s pitying glances and Ron avoiding Harry so he didn’t actually say anything hurtful. Harry dug his nails into the palms of his hands. He didn’t want their pity.

“Harry,” Hermione sounded unsure as she broke the awkward silence Harry hadn’t realized was there, “Dumbledore...He said you would be safest with the Muggles.”

“Y-yeah,” Ron muttered.

Harry thought back to all the times Uncle Vernon had swung his fist or had hurled a heavy object at him, all the times Dudley and his gang had cornered Harry and took turns beating him only to come home and have Uncle Vernon congratulate Dudley. Harry recalled all the insults Aunt Petunia had sneered when Harry messed up his chores or when she had held down his hand to the stove causing severe burns. 

Harry’s hand twitched, he now knew the only reason his left hand was covered in pale, almost unnoticeable scars was because of his magic. Harry narrowed his eyes, Ron must have remembered about the bars on his windows. Safe with his relatives.  _ Ha.  _ Dumbledore was one thing, the headmaster had at least mentioned something about blood wards protecting him from Voldemort. But his friends were acting as if he lived with a loving family that accepted his magic. Harry wanted to bite back that not everyone was like Hermione’s family.

“Are you afraid of the hearing?” Ron asked, looking nervous himself. “It might be in front of the Wizigamont.”

“No,” and it was the truth. It didn’t matter if he was found guilty or not. It made no difference at the moment. His wand was useless either way..

Harry paced the bedroom, it did not lift his spirits that the room was bigger than his bedroom at the Dursleys allowing the room to easily fit two beds and two dressers. This room was also dark, just like the rest of the house. It was like the house had sucked any happiness and light from its walls. Just like a dementor.

Harry stopped in front of a blank canvas, gold framing the painting. Harry assumed the occupant had vacated its painting to visit another. 

“Why has Dumbledore been so eager to keep me in the dark?” Harry kept his back towards the two, pretending to study bare canvas. “Does he think I can not be trusted?”

“Don’t be thick,” Harry watched Ron’s reflection on the gold frame, it seemed to be the only thing in the entire house that had been bothered to be dusted in the last year. Ron scratched his head as he spoke. “We haven’t been allowed into any of the meetings cause mum thinks we’re too young.”

“Big deal,'' Harry scoffed. “You’ve been here so of course, you know more than me. Don’t tell me you haven’t tried to eavesdrop or they haven’t let anything slip. You at least know whose house this belongs to. DON’T TREAT ME LIKE I’M STUPID.” 

Harry's voice cracked, his fist somehow becoming tighter than before. Harry desperately wished to hit something. He did not want to pretend that everything was fine just because he had left the Dursley’s.

“WHO FOUGHT VOLDEMORT NOT ONCE, NOT TWICE, BUT THREE TIMES! WHO SAW HIM RETURN! YOU THINK I WOULDN’T WORRY IF I DIDN’T GET ANY LETTERS FOR WEEKS I WOULDN’T WORRY! I'VE BEEN STEALING PAPERS, LISTENING TO THE NEWS TO HEAR IF VOLDEMORT WAS MOVING. BUT YOU, YOU DIDN’T BOTHER BECAUSE DUMBLEDORE MADE YOU SWEAR. YOU DIDN’T EVEN BOTHER TO WRITE A SHORT NOTE SO THAT I COULD KNOW YOU WERE SAFE AND ALIVE! BUT I SUPPOSE YOU FEEL YOU ARE TOO IMPORTANT FOR ME BECAUSE YOU’VE BEEN HERE IN THE ORDER, HAVING A LAUGH THAT I WAS STUCK ON MY OWN.”

Harry let out a hoarse laugh, his throat sore from the yelling.

“Harry, how can you say that?”Hermione gasped, her eyes shining with unshed tears but Harry did not feel remorse.

“Yeah mate we are really sorry. It hasn’t been that fun either. Like I said we aren't allowed at the meetings and mum’s been making us clean.”

Harry was shocked into silence. Ron was mad that he had to clean this hovel in return for a stay at the Headquarters of the Order of Phoenix. Harry wanted to laugh; he'd give anything to stay here than at the Dursleys. Merlin, he’d willing clean this hovel by himself if it kept him away from his relatives.

“Harry!” Hermione pleaded with him and Harry sighed.

“What..what exactly is the Order of Phoenix anyway?” 

“It's a group Dumbledore founded. A secret society to fight You-Know-Who. Some who were previous members even fought last time.”

“So who is in it. I met those who were in my “guard”.”

“We’ve met about twenty but there got to be more!” Ron stated enthusiastically, relieved that Harry appeared to have calmed down.

“And Voldemort? What are they doing about him? What is Voldemort doing?” 

“We’ve told you, Harry, we aren't allowed in the meeting’s,” Hermione flinched as Harry landed his glare on her. “We do have a general idea, the twins have these things--” 

“Extendable Ears! They are really useful, Fred and George created them this summer and we were able to listen in on some of the meetings. Unfortunately, mum caught them and tried to get rid of them all. They hid a few, thankfully, but now mum’s put a spell on the door to stop the ears from working. Shame…”

“So what  _ did _ you find out?” Harry asked.

“We know that some of the order are watching known Death Eaters and others are trying to recruit new members.”

“Don’t forget guard duty. I don’t know what they are guarding but they are always talking about guard duty.”

Harry let out a huff. The information he’d been given was useless. He still did not know what Voldemort was up too and why he was so quiet. 

With a crack and raucous laughter, two more redheads suddenly appeared out of thin air. 

“Hello, Harry!”

“Temper. Temper.” Ron’s older brothers Fred and George commented but Harry was still glad to see them. 

“You don’t need to use magic every time. You could have used the stairs.” Ron protested but the twins ignored their brother.

“So you heard?”

Fred held up an ear attached at the end of a string. Extendable ears Harry guessed. “And we didn’t even need these.”

Fred and George wore matching grins which Harry could only return with a smile of his own. 

“Did you overhear anything?” Ron asked hopefully.

“Nah,” George sighed, throwing himself onto Ron's bed. “Wish we could. We wondered what old Snape had to say.”

“Snape?” Harry couldn’t believe that Snape was even in the order as Snape had the mark. 

“Yeah,” George leaned forward, “apparently it's an important report and very top secret.” 

Ron rolled his eyes as Fred muttered something about dung smelling bats. 

“He’s on our side now,” Hermione snapped. “Dumbledore said so.”

Harry was really getting tired of Hermione worshipping the headmaster.

“Who else is there?”

“Well, Bill and Charlie are in it…” the Weasleys and Hermione exchanged glances.

“You probably shouldn’t mention Percy. He disowned himself from our family. He says that Dumbledore’s a crackpot and that dad and mum are stupid to follow him.”

“It's awful,” Ron shook his head, “dad’ll break anything he is holding and mum’ll cry whenever he’s mentioned.”

“Percy believes the Ministry and the Daily Prophet.” Hermione murmured. 

Harry blinked at all of them, very confused of what they were talking about. 

“What about the Daily Prophet?”

“Haven’t you been reading the paper?” Hermione waved her arms around, Ron rolling his eyes.

“They’ve been dragging Dumbledore’s name through the mud. Claiming he’s going senile and that Dumbledore is just trying to instil fear in the public with Voldemort’s return.” 

“And don’t get us started what they say about you!” Fred groaned.

Ron scowled, while Hermione whimpered. Harry was slightly worried as she trembled that she might throw herself onto him once more. 

“What have they been writing?” Harry hadn’t cared about anything other than news on Voldemort. Not that there had been any.

“Well,” Hermione huffed, “you remember what that Skeeter woman wrote about you last year. How..how you were unstable. How you would lie about your scar hurting.”

Yes, he did. Harry thought, grinding his teeth together. All too well. He wished he could forget about it. 

“Well, even though Skeeter is no longer writing for the Prophet they are using what she wrote and are now calling you...well...a deluded attention-seeking person who thinks your the-“

“The second coming of Merlin. Bonkers right!” Ron finished for Hermione but she seemed not to mind being interrupted. 

Harry felt ill. After almost five years of having no privacy and the whole wizarding world talking about him, good or bad, one would think it would not bother him. But it still did. And he dreaded to think about the field day the paper would have when he was expelled and they learned about his squib status.

“And they haven’t said a word about the dementors,” Hermione had returned to ranting about Harry's upcoming trial, “they just Harry. It’s illegal. They can’t break your wand or expel you. Dumbledore won’t let them. He can’t!”

Hermione paused her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath and as no one appeared to want to continue Harry thought it was best to try and tell them now.

“There’s something I need to…tell you.” Unfortunately, the last of his sentence was lost as Mrs Weasley knocked on his door before opening. With another crack, Fred and George disappeared before their mother could spot the extendable ears. 

“Oh why must they do that,” she complained about a hand over her heart. “Come on you three dinner's ready. Harry dear you must be starving.” 

Mrs Weasley gently grabbed his arm leading him back down the stairs, Ron sniggering behind them as Hermione slapped his shoulder rolling her eyes. 

They didn’t make it down the stairs. They’d barely made it to the landing before an awful screeching broke the eerie silence muddying the house.

“FILTH! Disgusting blood-traitors dirting the most ancient house of black!”

SHUT UP! YOU OLD HAG!”

Sirius, no matter his yelling, was a sight for sore eyes. The wild dark-haired man, thin, eyes sunken from the years in Azkaban. An air of madness around him as he pointed his wand at a life-sized portrait of an old woman, silent screams and curses very apparent by the way her mouth moved and how her finger pointed at Sirius. 

Harry held himself back from running up to his godfather and hugging him tightly, deciding it was best to allow the escaped convict to cover the portrait back up with dusty red curtains first, the woman, who bore a resemblance to Sirius disappearing.

“Oh, Molly. I’m so sorry.” Tonks hurried to Mrs Weasley’s side. 

“No worries,” the red-headed mother seemed resigned to the other woman’s antics, “dinner’s in here dears!”

Hermione and Ron rushed past Harry allowing Harry some privacy with his godfather for which he was thankful for.

“Sirius…” Harry breathed. Now that the moment had come Harry felt awkward and nervous. He didn’t know whether to wrap his arms around the man or hold out his hand for a firm handshake.

Sirius himself answered his dilemma, tattooed hands pulled Harry into a tight embrace.

“It’s good to see you kiddo.”

“Yeah..” was all Harry could croak out. 

They stood a few seconds more soaking up the warm energy they felt at reuniting.

“So that was…” Harry gestured toward the now hidden portrait.

“Ah yes. My lovely mother.”

Sirius rolled his eyes causing Harry to snigger. Lovely indeed.

Harry followed Sirius, curious and surprised that maybe Sirius might have had a similar life as him going by the bitterness in his godfather's voice. Entering the kitchen only moments after the man immediately noticing how even this room was filthy. Even the smell of Mrs Wealsey’s cooking was not enough to cover the musty smell causing Harry’s nose to twitch.

The obvious remains of a meeting were evident, chairs crammed around the long dining table, now only occupied Mr Weasly, Bill, and another man, and a few leftover papers still in view. Harry was disappointed that he could not catch a glimpse at any of the contents, but nothing screamed secret organization out to him. 

A loud crash followed by Tonks apologizing spurred Harry into finding a seat. So in an attempt to stay as far away from the unkempt stranger, Harry sat in the chair just across from Bill Weasley, Sirius sitting at his side. 

“How was your trip here? Moody give you much trouble?” Bill smiled, turning to face Harry at the same time hiding Mr Weasley as he rolled up a paper that disappeared into his robes. 

“I almost froze to death,” Harry grumbled causing Bill to chuckle. 

“You should be glad you even arrived tonight he threatened to continue all night.” 

Harry shivered and was grateful that Moody had been convinced to land when he had, he doubted he could have stayed on his broom much longer no matter how good he was at flying recalling the time he had fallen off his broom in his third year because of dementors. Thinking of those dementors, Harry glanced at Sirius. 

Harry had instantly realized that Sirius had no desire to stay in this house but he looked healthy, heavier, and saner. The madness that Harry had grown accustomed to was still evident in Sirius’ eyes but they were softer, happier.

“Aye, I’m with ‘im!” the stranger Harry had avoided earlier shot up raising his arm up in a drunken slur. 

“The meetings over Dung. Harry this is Mungdus fletcher.” Mr Weasley stated. Mundungus grumbled out something incoherent before resting his face back onto the table.

“No really Molly, I’m fine chopping the carrots,” Tonks whined and out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Tonks grab a knife from Mrs Weasley and promptly begin chopping the orange vegetables.

“Dung was supposed to be guarding you the day of the dementors,” Sirius murmured quietly into Harry's ear, “Had he been there, there would have been a chance for him to notice their presence before you were placed in danger. Dumbledore was furious that he had left his post to go shopping in Knockturn alley.” 

Sirius' lip curled at the mention of the alley that drew all sorts of dark and evil witches and wizards. 

“So Harry,” Mr Weasley leaned toward Harry, “Had a good summer?”

“No,’ Harry managed to grit between his teeth, his anger once again rising to the surface. 

“No, I suppose not.” 

Harry looked between Mr Weasley, Bill, and Sirius shame mingling in his stomach, “Remus told you.’

Sirius placed a hand on his back giving Harry a comforting squeeze. “Don’t worry.”

Soon Mrs Weasley was approaching, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny all trailing behind carrying plates of food. Harry kept a close eye on Tonks who also carried an assortment of plates and bowls worried that she might drop something again and hurt someone but she was not the one he truly needed to worry about. Fred and George had decided to levitate the giant soup pot along with the spoons and a knife. Unfortunately, their magic wasn’t enough to stop the knife from landing between Sirius and Harry barely missing Sirius’ hand as Fred tripped. 

“FRED WEASLEY!” Mrs Weasley shouted but Sirius and Harry clutched their sides in laughter. Both Fred and George grinned ignoring their mother’s frustration.

“Sorry, Sirius.”

It didn’t take long for food to be dished out and make its rounds around the table. Everyone quickly relaxed, slipping into different conversations with their partners. Harry noticed how Fred and George quietly spoke to Mundungus, their eyes darting to their mother to make sure she didn't notice. However, Mrs Weasley was busy fussing over Bill, insisting that he cut his long hair and get rid of his multiple piercings. 

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny made the most noise, raucous laughter drawing everyone’s attention to Tonks whose nose had turned into a pig's snout. Harry clenched his fork tightly in his fist holding back his laughter with great difficulty as he imagined Dudley with the nose along with his tail. 

“If only I had been there to fight off those dementors,” Sirius growled, his eyes twinkling at Harry. Harry sat up glad Sirius had distracted him. 

“Oh,”

Sirius huffed; “Much better than imprisoned in this house. The rush and fear consuming you as you fight for your life, unknowing if you’d live. Throws me back to my time as an Auror.”

“Imprisoned?” While the house was dark and gloomy it couldn’t compare to his cupboard.

“Of course,” Sirius diegetically muttered, “the ministry is still after me and Voldemort will know I am an animagus now because of Wormtail. Dumbledore thought it best I stay inside away from any suspicious eyes.”

Sirius' eyes twitched as he spoke in a flat tone and Harry guessed he wasn’t the only one frustrated with Dumbledore. 

“But you’ve been here, with the order. At least you had people to speak to.” 

Sirius snorted, “Yes, having Snape remind me how he is risking his life in every report and that I am inside cleaning.” 

Harry flinched at Sirius’ anger. “Sorry I didn’t mean to remind you.” 

Sirius looked down at Harry giving him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“It’s good that you are here Harry. And hey if you can’t return to Hogwarts you can stay here.” 

“What do you mean not returning,” Ron spluttered through his mouth full of food. “Hermione’s already looked it all up. They can't expel him.”

All the adults in the room froze. Sirius frowned looking down at harry. “You haven’t told them?” he murmured quietly. Harry shook his head.

“I didn’t have the chance.”

Sirius hummed. 

Harry picked at his food for the rest of the meal, his appetite suddenly gone. The rest of the table quickly returned to their conversations if a little louder. When Molly stood quickly collecting the dishes Harry straightened knowing he needed answers tonight.

“I want to know what the order is doing about Voldemort. What has he been up to?”

“Harry,” Lupin began but Sirius raised a hand. 

“What is it you want to know?” 

A strangled sound of unbelief came from the twins and Ron, surprised that Sirius would actually answer. 

“I think not,” Mrs Weasly had returned her hands on her hips. “It is time for bed. You are not telling them anything, Sirius.”

“I am Harry’s godfather and guardian. I can tell him whatever I wish. Dumbledore has even given me permission.”

“You…” Mrs Weasley spluttered before spinning on her heels, “then the rest of you off to bed.”

Almost immediately, Fred, George, Ron and Ginny began arguing, all trying to convince their mother to allow them to stay. Hermione stayed silent but Harry recognized her familiar stubborn frown and knew that she would not be leaving without a fight either. 

Finally, Mrs Weasley threw up her hands, her gaze landing on her husband, “Arthur!”

The man sighed knowing he couldn’t please both his wife and children. “Molly, Fred and George should stay, they are of age.” the twins instantly dawning matching smiles, “but they will not be allowed to join. You both still have one more year of schooling.”

Mrs Weasley huffed but said nothing, “And Ron-”

“Harry’ll just tell me after if you don’t let me stay.”

Mr Weasley nodded, “Yes. I assume so. So both you and Hermione will be allowed to stay as well. Ginny will go to bed.” 

Ginny immediately opened her mouth to protest but her mother latched on to Mr Weasley's words.

“Bed,” she ordered practically dragging her only daughter up the stairs, who dragged and stomped her feet the whole way.

  
  


When Mrs Weasley finally returned all eyes landed on Harry and Sirius, who sighed giving the room a tight smile.

“Before we start Harry has something to share.”

Harry stiffened his friends gazing at him with curiosity. Harry’s throat seemed to dry up, any words he might have said trapped in his chest. 

It was Remus’ warm and comforting hand that allowed him to take a deep breath, “After the dementor attacked, I...” Harry looked away, his gaze locked onto the table in front of him. “I’m a squib. My magic is gone.” 

Harry held his breath in anticipation of his friend's reactions.  Hermione gasped but otherwise, the room was silent.

“Oh, Harry, you’re not a squib. Moody says it's just magical exhaustion. We’ll visit St. Mungo's and then you’ll be better.” Tonks said, trying to reassure him.

Harry had to bite his teeth tightly together. He knew she meant well but he still didn’t like her condensing tone.

“Yes well,” Sirius coughed, “For now Harry is without his magic. And while I will tell you parts of the order, after tonight, Harry, you will not be able to join or inquire too much. So ask all your questions now.” Mrs Weasley coughed interrupting Sirius, “Yes Molly, I know. It also does not mean all your questions will be answered.”

Harry nodded, knowing it was better than nothing and was simply glad someone was willing to listen and answer his question. 

  
  


“What's Voldemort been up to? What are his plans? What is the order? What are we doing to fight Voldemort?”

Sirius let out a chuckle, “Slow down. The order is a group that Dumbledore has gathered to fight Voldemort and his death eaters. Dumbledore thought it best to start regrouping when Voldemort first started showing the signs of returning and over the summer we began our full operations.”

Harry nodded, Sirius, confirming what Ron and Hermione had told him. “But what about Voldemort?” 

“You-Know-Who has been almost completely silent. The ministry believes that Dumbledore is only shouting about the return of the dark lord to insight a mass panic and take over the position of minister.”

“But that's insane!” Harry spluttered. 

“We agree. We also know that Voldemort wants to keep his return a secret and that's why we believe there have been no killings or mysterious disappearances.”

“Well,'' Harry pleaded for them to continue.

“You’ve already heard the majority of his plans,” Remus interjected, “you can recall that Voldemort wanted to call back his loyal followers and begin recruiting dark creatures, such as giants, werewolves, and dementors.” 

Harry deflated, “But that can’t be it. You're not just letting him amass a huge following like before.”

“Of course not Harry,” Tonks said, her looks back to normal.

“We are doing our best.” Remus continued, “But as Sirius stated earlier the ministry is fighting against Dumbledore.”

“And Cornelius Fudge has Lucius Malfoy always whispering in his ear,” Charlie muttered bitterly.

“It's also made it hard to recruit others,” Tonk piped.

“So...so if the ministry is crucifying Dumbledore and they all think I am mad, Voldemort has been free to do whatever he wants. He could be doing anything!’ Harry noticed how his peers flinched at the realization. 

“Well like I said, Dumbledore’s pretty smart and he has a good idea what Voldemort wants at the moment,” Sirius once again held Harry's attention this time all smiles gone, “He's after something. Something he did not have before.”

“Like a weapon,” Harry straightened with the realization, Ron nodding along.

“But what could be worse than the killing curse,” George asked as Fred shivered.

“ _ That  _ is enough,” Mrs Weasley finally said, “time for bed all of you.”

“But mom!” the twins groaned.

“I think she is correct.” Remus hushed any other of the Weasley children's protest and Harry noticed dark circles around both Remus’ and Sirius’ eyes and watched as Mr Weasley fought to keep his eyes open.

“I understand,'' Harry finally said reluctantly. “Thank you for everything.’

Harry slightly followed Mrs Weasley and the others back to their respective rooms. Once alone with Ron in their room, Harry collapsed onto his bed. 

“Crazy what they said,” Ron spoke from his bed. “Wonder what this weapon is? Do you have any clue?” 

Harry hummed, not really wanting an answer, “No clue. But they won't tell us. You saw your mother.”

Ron continued grumbling until they were replaced by loud snores, Harry, however, was still awake, sleep alluding him. 

He wondered if Voldemort staying quiet was the reason his scar hadn’t hurt so much but as his eyes finally closed he was quickly proved wrong.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry’s days at Grimmauld Place were mundane, a new daily routine settling into a habit. Every morning Harry would get up, eat the meals provided by Mrs Weasly, clean a new room in the mansion, and try to stay out of the way of order members while at the same time trying to listen in on those meetings, and then finally bed.

Every night, as his head hit his pillow, Harry would walk down the unfamiliar hall still unable to open the lone locked door. It was so mundane that Harry almost forgot his upcoming hearing. That was until Mrs Weasly handed freshly iron clothes. 

“Best to give them a good first impression, dear.” 

Harry could only nod, his throat suddenly dry.

“How will I be getting there?”

“First,” Mr Weasly smiled, “We will stop by St. Mungos to see if we can do anything about your magic. The earliest available appointment was tomorrow and it might help your case if we can get a diagnosis. After that, we will travel to the ministry. Don’t worry too much about your trial Amelia Bones is the Head of the Department of Magical Law and Enforcement. But she is fair. She’ll listen to you.”

Harry nodded. 

“That’s great Harry. She’ll definitely see that this was a huge mistake.” Hermione smiled.

“Yeah, you'll be fine mate.” Ron slapped Harry on the back in encouragement.

The rest of the dinner held a lighter tone, smiles all around as everyone tried to encourage Harry in his hearing. But a sinking feeling in his gut told Harry that tomorrow he would be receiving less than joyful news. And his worries did not decrease as the night wore on.

With Ron at his side, as usual, the normal snores breaking the silence that came at night, Harry was unable to join his friend in dreamland. And as he seemed to be doing every night Harry clutched the locket in his palm, the locket becoming something like a security blanket. The cool metal seemed to automatically calm Harry, his breathing coming out more slowly. But Harry doubted he would fall asleep. 

It had already been more than a week with no sign of his magic returning. Harry feeling more empty every day as he was quickly losing hope of ever returning to Hogwarts. Harry hadn’t been able to tell Hermione or Ron but he was grateful that his two friends had taken his new weakness in stride almost pretending as nothing had happened. Unfortunately, he hadn’t missed those worried glances everyone in the house shared. He hadn’t missed Mrs Weasley giving him tasks that would not require any magic. Or the way no one spoke of Hogwarts and the upcoming year in front of him.

Harry sighed, turning to face the brown wall. He felt so weak. Hopeless. The feeling of uncertainty knawing at him. He had no idea what Voldemort was up to and at this point, Harry would only be able to run away if Voldemort found him. 

Harry closed his eyes a lifeless face flashing to the forefront of his mind. Would he be disappointed? Angry? Harry had promised to get revenge for Cedric. Avenge his death. What about the others. Harry had never wanted to be their saviour, hating that his fame came at the price of his parents. But that was all Harry was. The-Boy-Who-Lived. So what was he if he couldn’t even perform the simplest of spells. Maybe that was why Harry had yet to see Dumbledore.

Harry squeezed the locket tighter, its chain digging into his skin. He didn’t want to be left behind by his friends or Sirius. Harry didn’t want to be alone.

Harry brought the locket to his lips, “I’m scared,” he breathed onto the green S, his breath fogging up the gold. 

“I don’t want to be alone. Please come back.” Harry closed his eyes tightly begging his magic to suddenly well up and fill his core again. He missed the soft thrum of what he now knew was his magic. Its comforting presence promising a better life even while he stayed with the Dursleys.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Harry repeated.

“I hear by am expelling Harry James Potter from Hogwarts for the use of magic in front of a muggle. Breaking the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy even after several warnings. His wand shall be broken at four pm this evening and Mr Potter will be returned to his muggles relatives promptly after all magical artefacts are confiscated.”

Fudge spoke not bothering to look at harry who was straining his neck to look up at the Minister. Harry found himself chained to a seat in front of a crowd of people who looked down at him with various forms of glares. The roomed resembled the one he had seen the previous year in DUmbledore’s pensive, for the trial of the Death Eater who had tortured Nevile's parents.

As Harry tried to look around the room he spotted Mr Weasly looking down at him with pity. Harry felt nauseous unable to hear the rest of Fudge’s words. 

“Wait! Please let me see Dumbledore, he knows what happened. It was the dementors! I’m telling you!” 

“Mr Potter if are not quiet you will be sent to Azkaban for defiance and unwillingness to cooperate.” A pudgy women spoke in a high pitch voice. “As for Dumbledore he has refused to comment handing over all authority to the ministry to do as we see fit.”

The room seemed to spin as Harry realized he had been abandoned by Dumbledore. His last hope did not even bother to show his face. 

Harry vaguely felt hands grab him by the shoulders leading him out of the courtroom into a small hallway. 

“No!” Harry pulled away.

“Mr Potter please corporate.” Said one of the wizards while the other pulled out his wand.

“No, I refuse to return to the Dursley's. I’d rather go to Azkaban.” Harry shouted.

“That can be arranged,” growled the wizards who had his wand out. 

Harry bottled down the hallway just as the wizard shouted a spell. Harry was able to just dodge the spell as he rounded a corner hearing the wizards' shout.

“Get him!”

Harry ran not looking where he was headed only hoping to get as far as possible from the wizards chasing him. Harry found a door pulling it open quickly only to stop. 

It was the hallway he had been dreaming of. It appeared darker than usual and the familiar pull was not as strong as it had usually been but as Harry looked back no longer hearing any shouts he thought it would be a safe place to hide.

Harry closed the door behind, allowing himself to take a deep breath before tentatively walking towards the door at the end of the hall.

For some reason the walked seemed longer than before, the door appearing just out of reach, but when Harry finally touched the doorknob Harry froze at the sound of a very familiar voice.

“What are you doing here?” Voldemort growled.

Harry opened his mouth to retort but then a shrill scream seemed to fill the room causing both Harry and Lord Voldemort to flinch and cover their ears.

“What did you do?” Voldemort shouted glaring at Harry but as if it had never begun the screaming stopped.

Harry groaned his eyes fluttering against the morning sun. Harry could hear the chirping of birds through the window and when his eyes finally decided to open Harry spotted Ron still fast asleep.

Harry gave another low groan not only did his scar throb but so did his right hand. Looking down he found that in the night he must have clutched the locket so tightly that it had cut into his skin.

Harry slipped the locket over his neck, sneaking past Ron to the bathroom making sure to was both his scar and aching hands. 

“At least that was only a dream,” Harry muttered to himself in the mirror, “but the real nightmare begins now.”


	6. Chapter 6

Harry slowly descended the stairs, tired eyes, still half-closed, dressed in the clothes Mrs Weasly had chosen. His hair a dishevelled mess Harry was sure the mother hen Mrs Weasley was would no doubt fuss over but he knew it would do no good. Nevertheless, Harry smiled as the moment he stepped in the kitchen Mrs Weasley immediately abandoned her dishes to rush to his side, wet comb somehow already in hand. 

Normally Harry would have protested somewhat but today he liked her hovering over him as a mother would. 

“Ready Harry?” Mr Weasley asked putting down that morning’s copy of the Daily Prophet. 

Harry nodded his smile fading, thankful that he could turn his attention to the eggs and toast Mrs Weasley had just placed in front of him.

“Morning,” Tonk yawned as she and Lupin walked through the door joining them at the table. 

“Good morning Harry,” Remus smiled at Harry choosing the seat next to the boy. Harry appreciated the wolf's warm presence. 

“You look awful,” Harry said looking at the bags under Tonks’ eyes.

“B-been up all night,” Tonks said through another yawn. Harry had to stop his own hands reaching up to his eyes, trying not to think how he appeared. Instead, he grabbed the closet piece of toast, stuffing the piece of bread in his mouth.

“Nervous?” Remus spoke quietly, and while Harry knew everyone could still hear everything he still appreciated it.

“I think I’m more nervous about the trip to St Mungo's. What's the point if I’m let off at the ministry if nothing will change. If I can't get my magic back then I might as well have my wand snapped.” Harry also spoke quietly, he wasn’t going to yell like he had when he had first arrived. But his emotions bubbled at the surface.

“St. Mungos has the best medi-wizards and witches. I’m sure they will find what wrong.” Harry noticed the werewolf’s eyes briefly flash yellow and Harry wondered how close the full moon was. But for some reason Harry believed the man, his worries somehow relieved.

Harry didn’t have the chance to see Hermione or Ron or before he and Mr Weasley left Grimmauld Place but at the door, his godfather waited for them. 

“Will you be coming with us?” Harry asked, his eyes brightening.

Sirius twitched, “Unfortunately not. Dumbledore believes it to be too dangerous.”

Harry's eyes narrowed. Dumbledore. Those strange but familiar emotions rose up but Harry had decided to save those until he had actually met the headmaster.

“Oh.”

“Harry,” Sirius bent cupping Harry's cheeks in his hands, “Listen to me. I want you to remember that no matter what happens today you are my godson and I will always welcome you whether it be in this house or somewhere else. I will never abandon you again.”

Harry blinked back tears, opening his mouth before closing it, as he stared at Sirius. Harry could only nod unsure of what to say and afraid that he would indeed cry. 

“Come along Harry. It’s best we're off.”

Harry finally took eyes off Sirius following the red-headed wizard out into the muggle street not allowing himself to look back at his godfather.

Harry was tremendously grateful to finally reached the abandoned department building that Mr Weasley had pointed out as the entrance to St. Mungos. Mr Wealsey had insisted on using the train and Harry had assumed incorrectly that Mr Weasley had actually used the train before by his excitement and confidence. But when they reached the subway the wizard struggled with the muggle money and almost missed their stop. 

“Come along,” Mr Weasley smiled. Harry looked up back at the building. He had assumed magic hid the building much like Grimmauld Place, so he waited as Mr Weasley stepped up to one of the female dummy’s. 

“Here for magic abnormality.” Mr Weasley then grabbed Harry's sleeve pulling him through the storefront window before any muggles noticed.

The reception area was quiet, only a few witches and wizards waiting in line in front of a desk. Harry noticed a sign reading  _ ‘our welcome witch will be happy to assist you’  _ along with the young witch with long blond hair behind the welcome desk. Soon the duo reached the desk where the witch pushed up her black square glasses before smiling at them.

“How can I help you?”

“Ah yes,” Mr Weasley drew out a form from his robes handing it over to the witch, “We have an appointment with Healer Atticus.”

The witch peered down at the paper before nodding, flicking her wand making the paper vanish. “Fourth Floor. He will be waiting for you. Next.”

Harry quickly followed Mr Weasley to a flight of stairs climbing to the fourth floor, instantly noticed a wizard wearing a lime green robe. The man wore his brown hair long just above his knees falling just above his knees with thick leather black boots clashing horribly with the robes and appearing very similar to a pair Sirius owned. 

When the wizard noticed the pair he smiled walking up to Harry. “It's nice to meet you, Heir Potter,” the man tilted his head in a slight nod and Harry guessed this man was most likely a pureblood, “Please this way.”

Harry hesitantly followed the healer to an office, everything looking so white and sterile. Harry hadn’t been to many doctors, the Dursley's seeing it as an unnecessary expense, and only Madame Pomfrey had the Hogwarts hospital wing to compare to. At least that had some colour to it.

“Please sit.” The healer gestured to a comfy looking chair. “Heir Potter, I have a few questions for you before I begin any testing in order to find any stress triggers or other causes for magic. If you wish I can have Mr Weasley will wait for you outside if it makes it easier to talk.” Mr Weasley stiffened at the suggestion, the healer tilted his head giving Harry a warm smile.

“Uh- no. it's fine. He can stay.”

The healer nodded writing down something, “if it makes you feel any better it is not as rare as many wizards believe to lose one's magic temporarily. It can range from a curse, mis-performed ritual, simple magic over-exhaustion, and sometimes as a defence mechanism against an abusive household or in response to a traumatic experience.”

Harry flinched, memories of his drunk uncle beating Harry with the promise to beat the freakishness out of him. Harry was doubly grateful he had not told the Dursley’s anything before he left. They would have surely gloated and something much worse might have happened. Something that had stopped when he had been accepted in Hogwarts. 

“You are currently staying with Mr Weasley and his family, correct?”

“Huh- oh yes,” Harry answered quickly wishing he could leave.

“When I received word of your appointment I asked for permission on your school health records. The school matron was very helpful in explaining your various ailments,” the healer shifted through his papers, “She mentioned that you have an unusually strong magically core but because of your many injuries it has focused on healing yourself before growing your magical strength. Did you find any difficulty in your day to day life with magic? Your classes?”

Harry shook his head, “No. It has been normal.”

“And how about just before you returned home for the summer? Did you feel any different then? You had just won the Triwizard Cup, you must have been exhausted.”

Harry thought about Cedric. Cedric who was dead. Voldemort had returned. And his teacher had actually been a Death Eater. He hadn’t thought about much else after that.

“I had just lost my friend,” Harry bit out a little angrily, “I didn’t care about much else.”

Harry finally met the healer's gaze. Green meeting brown. The brown eyes narrowed as if expecting something to come from Harry's gaze, but when nothing did they relaxed.

“I see. It is always difficult to see your friends die.” The healer spoke quietly and for once Harry couldn’t sense any pity. The healer truly meant it, and Harry wondered if the wizard had lost any friends in the last war.

“However one week ago, something must have happened. Please think back. If nothing comes to might we can start looking into curses or rituals aimed at Heir Potter--”

“No,” the healer stopped, “I know what happened. One week ago I came across two dementors along with my muggle cousin. It was after that it couldn’t feel it anymore. But I'm sure you’ve read it all in the papers, sir.”

Mr Weasley flinched but the healer looked shocked. He opened his mouth as if to mouth the words dementors before shutting it close. The man took a deep breath, composing himself. 

“Well, that would clear some things up. Unfortunately, Heir Potter, you will be disappointed. While I do read the paper I have not seen any mention of dementors attacks or you being involved. This is the first time I am hearing this.”

Harry swung his head to look at Mr Weasley who nodded and Harry faintly remembered Hermione saying something about the lack of coverage. Harry now opened his mouth, he had been avoiding the papers like the plague after he learned what they were printing about him and assumed the others were being nice by not mentioning it. 

Harry sighed, sure he’d finally get some answers at the ministry. “I see. I'm sorry I was rude.”

The healer only smiled, “Fame always brings in slander. But it is how you use those hate filled words to your advantage.” Mr Weasly coughed, but the healer ignored him. “Now that we have found the very likely cause we begin our testing. Forgive me Mr Weasley but I will ask you to step out for this portion. The healer led Mr Weasley out of the office before returning with a metal plate carrying several objects. 

“It is very unfortunate that you met with dementors. Even to the best of us, they are a horror but after losing someone dear to you they are deadly.”

“I was able to cast a Patronus in order to drive them away. It was my last spell.”

“Impressive.” the healer murmured. “May I check your wand?” 

Harry handed the wand over to the healer who cast a spell with a faint golden glow. 

“Impressive,” The healer whispered, “Unfortunately it gives us no answers. But no worries, let us move on.”

The healer picked up what looked to be a muggle syringe holding out a hand for Harry's arm.

“Please give me your arm. This needle will prick you and draw out some of our blood, sending it directly to our testing area. This is to double check no one has cast any curse or blood rituals that might be stopping the flow of magic. Then I will conduct legilimency to view and store your memory of the dementors, with your permission of course. After that I will have you drink these potions, to put you in a sleep-like state. You won't remember the rest but I promise it will be painless.” 

Harry gulped nodding. He followed the healer's orders to take off his shirt, lying down on a cot that had been quickly transfigured. He barely felt the needle go into his arm, his blood seemingly vanishing, until the healer pulled it out and healed his wound. 

“Muggles are interesting aren’t they.” Harry blinked as his healer wrote down his observations, not bothering to look at Harry as he spoke. “As a trainee, we are sent to either heal muggle that are caught in the crossfire of magic and others are sent to a muggle hospital to learn from them. As you can probably guess, I was chosen to study in a muggle hospital. I learned much there, even brought some of their tools to be used in our own hospitals.”

“I see. It must have been hard for a pureblood to lower himself so.”

Harry’s healer laughed causing Harry to frown.

“I won't deny it was hard. I quite disliked many of them. I still don’t understand many of the things they do. I was so relieved to return to St Mungo's. But wouldn’t you know it, I was so curious about some of the advancement muggles were making so I went back on my own the next time.”

Harry scrunched up his face wondering why he was being told all things, he healer chuckled understanding Harry’s expression.

“I'm sure you have no idea what legilimency is. I will be entering your mind. Similar to mind reading, however, I will be viewing your memories instead of just reading thoughts. All you will need to do is think of the dementor attack. However, I must warn you, if your mind wavers, especially with someone with no occlumency experience, it will be very easy for me to view other memories. Some you might not want others to ever see. You have the option to refuse. If you do accept I am magically bound, unable to speak of anything I see to anyone you don't give permission to. That includes this whole meeting.”

Harry nodded, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Like I said you may refuse. Anyone who lives among muggles will have things they don’t want others to see or know.”

“Do you?” Harry asked before he could stop himself.

The healer hummed slightly. “I do. They are old memories now. I suppose the best way to sum them up is I trusted a muggle but when they found out I was a wizard their attitude changed.”

Harry didn’t speak, wishing to refuse the doctor. Afraid of what might be seen. But his desire, his need for his magic prevailed.

“I'll do it. I'll give my permission for the legilimency thing.” 

The healer gave Harry an encouraging smile, “Please sit up. Relax.” The healer placed his hands on Harry's shoulder. “Please look into my eyes.”

For a second time green met brown but this time Harry thought of the dementors, feeling as the healer entered his mind. A slight pain lasted only for a moment before it was and they both stood in Harry's mind.

Harry felt more than saw himself standing next to the healer who looked around Harry's mind. Harry was surprised that even in his mind he could feel the skin numbing cold of the dementors and clearly hear his cousins' whimpers. The memory identical to the events one week prior. 

“It's this one,” Harry nodded to the healer whose attention was already glued to the dementor’s gliding from each side.

“Harry,” a whispering, gasping voice called out to him. Harry spun around his hand automatically reaching for his wand. 

It was a shadow.  _ The shadow. _ Harry hadn’t seen it since he had begun dreaming of a long hallway and a locked door. 

“Harry,” it called out again. Harry pulled out his wand hoping that he might have some domain over his own mind. 

“What do you want?” Harry growled ready to strike but before he could utter a single spell the shadow disappeared in a cloud of smoke horse laughter the only evidence it had ever been there.

“Ready?” the healer had returned. “I’ve seen everything I need to.” 

“Did you see anything else?”

The healer shook his head, “Rest assured I only viewed your attack. Nothing more. ”

“I think we should go back.” 

In an instant Harry found himself blinking against the bright light of the healer’s office. 

“It's best if you lie down. You might feel slightly nauseous.” 

“What happened?”

The healer gave a chuckle, “I'm impressed. I believed you to be unaware of occlumency but I am surprised that you could not only notice my presence but follow me. And then when you wanted you kicked me out.”

Harry closed his eyes, not understanding what the healer meant by occlumency. 

“Here take these potions. I've added one for nausea. All you need to do now is sleep.” 

Harry quickly down the potions, revealed that he could rest and not think that shadow for a while.

“How was it?” Mr Weasley stood as Harry finally exited the healer’s office.

Harry shrugged, “Fine. I don’t remember much.”

Mr Weasly nodded, “Yes. He did mention that would happen. How are you feeling? Hungry?”

Harry shook his head, not much in the mood for chatter. He just wanted to know the results of his test. 

They waited thirty minutes before they were ushered back into the healer's office. The first thing Harry noticed was the grim look of the man's face.

“What is it?” Harry asked, trying not to allow his voice to shake.

The healer sighed, “We have confirmed that no one placed a curse on Heir Potter. I am certain your lack of magic stems from your run in with the dementors, however from what I observed there is nothing I can do.”

“What do you mean nothing!” Harry snarled, Mr Weasley, grabbing his arm

“I am afraid, as of right now, that only time can return your magic. Your body has shut the flow of magic but the good news is that it is still there. It will return when it believes you are healed enough.

“I’m fine!”

“Yes, Heir Potter. Physically. I will be doing more research in hopes to find a lead but I highly doubt I will be calling for your return.”

“This is ridiculous.'' Harry stood, slamming the door behind him and leaving to two grown wizards to talk. However it didn’t take long before Mr Weasly also exited, the man suddenly looking very tired.

“Ready Harry? The hospital has a flue point directly to the ministry.”

Harry scowled all the way to the several fireplaces, but Mr Weasley just smiled. “Say Ministry of Magic, Atrium. It's best that you exit as fast as possible as I’ll be right behind for you.”

Harry nodded grabbing a handful of the green powder to the left of the fireplace, “Ministry of magic, atrium.”

Harry braced himself, closing his eyes as his body zoomed through the passages, his knees buckling once they came into contact with the floor once again. Harry coughed out some dust, before rolling out of the fireplace. 

“You okay sweetie?” A witch wearing baggy clothing helped Harry stand. 

“Yeah. Fine.”

“It just takes practice to travel by floo powder. My little still comes home covered in ashes, it's why he says he likes apparition better.”

Mr Weasley thankfully appeared, saving Harry from conversing with the witch any further. 

“Ready Harry? First, we have to register your wand.”

Harry followed the wizard passed the line of fireplaces, where wizards exited and stepped in regularly, passed a giant fountain golden statues of a wizard, a witch, a centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf accompanied by the hiss of falling water. Harry spotted gold coins glimmering in the water and was remined of the muggle wishing wells he had seen during his one and only trip to the zoo. Harry slipped his hand in his pocket pulling out a galleon and tossing it into the water. 

_ Please let my hearing go well. _

Harry didn’t know who exactly he was praying to but he hoped that he would somehow be lucky once more and that he wouldn’t be expelled.

With one last look back at the fountain, Harry hurried to catch up to Mr. Weasley who had stopped to greet a wizard who stood under a sign that read  _ Security _ . 

“Good morning Eric.”

“Morning Aruther whats your business?” the wizard, Eric smiled. Harry noticed how the majority of witches and wizards passed by the desk, heading towards golden gates and towards a series of lifts.

“Escorting a visitor today.”

“Course.” Eric’s blue eyes met Harry and the man’s toothy grin widened, “Step over here.”

Harry brushed his hair over his scar to make sure it was hidden self-conscious before stepping closer to the man. The wizard waved a long golden rod down the front and back of Harry before holding out his hand. 

“Wand.” 

Harry pulled his wand carefully, handing it to the wizard who promptly dropped it onto a brass scale. Harry watched as the scale vibrated spewing out a narrow slip of parchment, the wizard tearing it off before reading it. 

“‘leven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use for four years. That correct?”

“Uh, yes.”

“And purpose of visitation?”

“Disciplinary hearing. For Harry Potter.” Mr Weasley spoke and the wizard Eric immediately glanced at Harry's forehead.

“I see, for Harry Potter.” The wizard slowly opened a desk drawer to pull out a name tag, gold writing appearing on the blank parchment.

“Here, you’ll need to wear this.” The wizard refused to take his eyes off of Harry.

“Thank you, Eric.” Mr Weasley spoke firmly this time taking Harry’s shoulder and pulling him towards one of the lifts.

As Mr Weasley made small talk with the other occupants, Harry stayed quiet. As the lift noisily descended Harry recognized the nauseating tightness in his chest and nerves. As the lift drew closer to level two thoughts of an unidentified witch snapping his wand in two and disappointed looks on Sirius’ and the Weasley's face when they learned he was no longer a wizard consumed his mind.

“Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Offices, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services.” Came the calm voice of a woman from a above. Harry suddenly found that he was alone with Mr Weasley.

“Where exactly-” Harry began but as the lift doors opened Mr Weasley stepped out. 

“This is us, Harry.”

Harry followed the older wizard down a corridor lined with doors, rounding a corner before passing into another corridor and coming to a halt at a door that read  _ Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. _

“This is my office.” Mr Weasley said, opening the door. “Thought we could wait for your hearing to begin in here.

Harry barely had room to join Mr Weasley in the office that appeared to once have served as a broom closet. Two desks that had been crammed together taking up the majority of the space and tottering towers of files filling up the rest.

A paper airplane followed Harry into the small office landing on top of one of the towers of files near Mr Weasley, who unfolded the parchment sighing slightly.

“‘Third regurgitating toilet reported in Bethnal Green, kindly investigate immediately.’This is getting ridiculous! Sorry, Harry, I'll have to see to this. Just sit anywhere I'll be back in a moment to show you to your hearing.”

“Sure.” Harry half wanted to stop the wizard who quickly disappeared around a corner. He did not want to be left alone with his thoughts. Harry turned, allowing the door to close behind him, and sat at Mr Weasley's desk.

“Don’t worry, Sirius already told you that you’d be able to stay with him even if I am expelled,” Harry muttered trying to reassure himself. 

Harry tried to imaging returning to Grimuald place after the ministry apologized to him and began investigating where the dementors had come from. Sirius would greet him in his dog form before they even reached the house to leap on Harry and cover him in kisses, somehow already knowing the verdict. Mrs Weasley would be the first to rush forward and hug him so tightly he wouldn’t be able to breath before rushing off to cook him a feast. Then Ron and Hermione would each hug him and congratulate him before Fred and George turned his skin red and gold in celebration. Remus would be off to the side with a smile lighting up his face. 

Harry’s thoughts trailed off, it wouldn’t matter. He might as well have his wand snapped for what good it did him right now. The Healer had said it, his magic might return someday, when it was ready, whatever that meant. Harry doubted it would ever return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my computer decided to just die on me the beginning of this month and it took FOREVER to ship a new one. Thanks, COVID. So as an apology I uploading all the chapters I missed all at once. I am also hoping to upload another chapter tomorrow after I finish editing. 
> 
> More good news a new chapter for Foreign Desire will be up this week too. If you were waiting I always update my Wattpad first but it is usually an unedited version.
> 
> Hopefully you guys are enjoying this story I really love writing this.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the story that I literally can not stop writing. I am so excited to share this as I have no idea how I waited this long. For right this story will be updated every Monday, so please look forward to it.
> 
> As this is only the first chapter you won't be able to get much out of it but this story will be very slow, and very long, so I understand if you wish to skip. But my hope is to show Harry's character development and the changes he goes through no romance will happen for a good while. And for the next few chapters, the timeline will follow similarly to the Order of the Phoenix, that is until his trial. 
> 
> Please leave your comments on how you liked this chapter so far.
> 
> And stay safe everyone!


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